


Metal Submarine

by Toomanyfandoms99



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gotham City - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 17:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18480901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: It was so easy, back then, to fall in love with Edward Nygma.  All it took was a few acts of kindness and for Edward to save him during an assassination attempt.Oswald should have known better.  He would never get his shining knight.





	Metal Submarine

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this headcanon!

Oswald didn’t realize how cold submarines were once entrenched in the river.

He gathered his black furs close to his neck, the feathers tickling his cheeks as he shuddered. He heard his dog whine, circling his fluffed bed. Oswald watched as he spun around and around, not tiring for a full minute. Then, he sat down on the bed, his head tucked towards his stomach. He curled into a ball, closing his eyes and looking immensely uncomfortable.

Oswald stood up, minding his bad leg as he dragged them along the steel floor. He tried not to think about the water that could seep through the bolts and cracks in the metal foundations. He picked up a blanket beside the dog bed, casting it over the bulldog. “I know,” he murmured to the dog, “I know.”

Oswald dragged himself back to his chair and sat uncomfortably, envying the dog.

He heard footsteps approach from the front of the submarine, the metal floors signaling every step made throughout the ship. Oswald recognized Edward’s steps anywhere, how his dress shoes slapped against the thin metal, how the small holes in the metal made the bottoms of his shoes reverberate. 

Edward had not changed clothes since they departed Gotham, remaining in his head-to-toe green suit and bowler hat. The only indication of his tiredness was his lowered glasses and slivers of gelled hair escaping their confines, peeking out from under the hat.

“We should reach the ocean within the hour,” Edward reported, his shoes clapping closer. “Then, we have our pick of the land.” He lowered himself into the other empty chair.

Oswald noted the heavy sadness that had dominated Edward’s expression ever since Lee chose Jim. He said softly, “Lee would’ve never come.”

Edward sighed, focusing on the porthole showing murky green water. “I know.”

Oswald pursed his lips, and saw his bulldog raise his head. As if sensing Oswald’s discomfort, it left the bed and settled by Oswald’s feet. Oswald leaned down and ran his fingers along its head.

“I didn’t expect this to feel so,” Edward searched for the word, “joyless.”

“It’s anticlimactic,” Oswald agreed, “but I know I’ll be back, eventually.” He straightened his posture, his back aching from a simple motion. His body had begun failing him at a young age, so he should have expected the acceleration.

And he should have expected looking at Edward this long would hurt him, no matter how deep he buried it.

Edward’s head turned sharply towards him, and Oswald observed him carefully. “You and me...there’s a lot I regret, you know. All that happened between us.”

“That was everyone else,” Oswald said airily, refusing to acknowledge the hint of fear settling in his heart at where this was going, “not us. Not really. They were making us hate each other. It’s in the past.”

“I should have seen it,” Edward said.

“You were in no position to see clearly,” Oswald reminded him.

“Maybe,” Edward drifted off wistfully, “I still don’t see clearly.”

Oswald glanced down at his bulldog, who had curled up beside his bad leg. “I can’t answer that for you. I’m not a philosopher, I’m a mobster.”

“And I’m just a scientist gone bad,” Edward said with a snort. “We’re more than that, Os.”

The old nickname reminded Oswald of simpler times, when he was running for mayor and Edward was by his side. Oswald, on his darker days, always thought about what his life would have been like if he were still mayor.

It was so easy, back then, to fall in love with Edward Nygma. All it took was a few acts of kindness and for Edward to save him during an assassination attempt.

Oswald should have known better. He would never get his shining knight.

Edward read something in Oswald’s features, unspooling his memories, comparing them with his own.

Oswald remembered when Edward rejected him, and pulled his jacket closer to his chest. If he thought about it too much, he was transported to that very moment. He remembered the heartbreak like it just occurred yesterday, not over three years ago. He remembered the ache, sharpening and dulling and sharpening again like a knife. He remembered how Edward’s words pricked his heart, making blood spill in an unavoidable overflow, drowning him and sealing his lips on the subject forevermore.

Despite the rejection of Oswald’s feelings, it did not diminish them, or make them disappear. Oswald merely tossed them away like he used to toss away dead bodies, disposing of the evidence with his many constructed masks as cover ups.

Now, with all that had happened between them, they were lumped together again. Alone. In a metal submarine.

Oswald struggled with himself, his feelings for the man across from him threatening to choke him. Oswald wanted to say so many things to Edward, but he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t completely blameless in the matter. He did have Edward’s crush killed, and even though she was malicious, Edward was still hurt.

Maybe not anymore, but Oswald understood what it meant to hold grudges. He had many.

Oswald suddenly realized that the submarine had gotten eerily quiet, and Edward was studying him the entire time. Riddler he may be, but the Penguin prided himself on being hard to read.

“They all had nothing on you,” Edward said, as if he measured the words with great care.

Maybe Oswald wasn’t so hard to read, after all.

“You may have made me,” Edward continued, “but my thoughts are my own. After the head chip, I realized,” he blinked down in nervousness, “how much my mind lingers on you, when we’re apart.”

Oswald remembered to blink, and he watched in rapture, curious as to where this was going.

“I fell apart, and I remade myself, and I kept falling apart. The only time I felt okay was when,” Edward recalled, “I was your right hand man.” He shrugged. “You were the missing ingredient the whole time.” He huffed. “Oh, what a fool I am.”

“Ed,” Oswald tested out the nickname that made Edward smile at the best of times and snap at the worst, “you may be many things, but a fool is not one of them. You’re the smartest person I know. You got us out of Gotham.”

Edward deflated, as if finally breathing for the first time since the submarine lowered into the polluted river. “I cannot be bought, but I can be stolen with one glance.” Edward looked at Oswald, then, and Oswald sensed a profound change in him. “I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?”

Oswald found himself studying the riddle, truly considering an answer to provide. It felt familiar to him, and it took a moment longer than it should have to remember.

Oswald was going to make a speech as a prospective mayor. Edward said that very riddle to him to express a vulnerability he found in a competitor. It was the easiest weakness to exploit, and of course, Oswald’s silly mind used it as daydream fuel for months afterwards.

This couldn’t be real. He was saying it to make a point, like last time. He didn’t really mean it. It was like last ti-

“It was right there,” Edward whispered, staring incredulously at Oswald. “The whole time, it was right there.” He swallowed thickly, and he leaned forward. “Answer it. You know this one.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Oswald griped. “I don’t appreciate it. We’re going our separate ways soon, which is what we agreed.”

“I don’t want to go our separate ways,” Edward said forcefully. “Now say it.”

“Love,” Oswald exhaled bitterly. “The answer is love. I remember. No need to rub salt in an old wound.” He burrowed his chin in his furs, as if wanting to disappear in thin air.

“A wound,” Edward said, barely a whisper. “You consider it a...of course you consider it a wound.”

“If you’re going to keep rambling about nonsense,” Oswald upturned his nose, making to stand, “I’ll sit in the front.”

Edward moved quickly, placing a hand on Oswald’s forearm. “Sit down.”

Oswald clenched his teeth, and dropped down unceremoniously into his chair again. His bulldog perked up slightly at the action, then lowered its head again.

“My intent isn’t to hurt you,” Edward murmured, “it’s to acknowledge you.”

“Acknowledge my suffering?” Oswald barked. “Have a good laugh? Is that it?”

Edward looked frustrated, and instead of lashing out, he exhaled deeply to expel it. “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?”

Oswald held his head high. “I pride myself on it.”

Edward was suddenly on his level, lowering to a crouch. He reached out, cupping Oswald’s cheek.

Oswald forgot how to breathe.

“I won’t use my words, then,” Edward said, his breath catching in his throat as he leaned forward.

Oswald nearly pushed Edward back once their lips brushed. He froze for a second in disbelief, then clenched his jaw. He pressed forward, kissing Edward in a harsher manner.

He wasn’t one to be treated gently, like he could break in two if Edward was not careful.

Edward matched his intensity, a hint of a deep laugh making its way into Oswald’s mouth. Since Edward seemed far too smug, Oswald tore himself away, shooting daggers into Edward’s eyes.

Edward only smiled, as if expecting it. “We’re doing this together,” he said. “Are you with me, or not?”

Oswald almost wanted to bark out a negative to spite him.

But he would need a shining knight should they be found as wanted fugitives and thrown in another prison.

Oswald crossed his arms, and spat, “I’m with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
